


dnd au (what's the dnd campaign like? is it just one piece or is it something else? the answer is yes.)

by MalkyTop



Category: One Piece
Genre: Gen, Modern AU, hello i am coming out of my grave now, i'm just writing my own thing here though, iiiiiit's dnd time, it's been ten thousand years..., relationships are mostly background, yes i know about the webcomic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-07-10
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:00:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25176541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MalkyTop/pseuds/MalkyTop
Summary: Usopp somehow corrals some idiots into sitting still long enough for tabletop games.
Relationships: Nami/Nefertari Vivi, Usopp/Vinsmoke Sanji
Comments: 9
Kudos: 35





	dnd au (what's the dnd campaign like? is it just one piece or is it something else? the answer is yes.)

“Everybody got their dice?”

“Don’t know why we need so many.”

“Um, sorry...it’s just the way the game works.”

“You’re complaining about what, two dollars at most?”

“I wouldn’t be complaining at all if _someone_ would just let me use theirs.”

“Hey, if I had to buy a set, so do you.”

“Oh, oh! Here’s mine!

“...That’s a six-sided die.”

“Yup!”

“...You brought _one_ die, and it’s six-sided.”

“That’s what a die is!”

“I mean, _yeah,_ but DnD barely even use six-sided dice! You can’t even make the basic skill check rolls!”

“Whatever. It’s fine. I’ll let him borrow mine.”

“Aw, thanks!”

“Discrimination! I call discrimination!”

“Just ‘cause you’re the only girl doesn’t mean you get to – “

“Settle down, settle down. Does everybody have their character sheets?”

There were four of them, kneeling around the low coffee table that was the only solid horizontal surface in the apartment. Nobody sat on the ratty couch, as it seemed unfair to elevate even the Dungeon Master over the players. At least there was a carpet, although it was a bristling one, and so thin they could feel the nails underneath.

Cheap carpeting aside, it wasn’t a bad place. For an undergrad barely into his second year, anyways. And the slight dinginess of the apartment lent well to the atmosphere of pretending to be in a dungeon, fighting some dragons. So the DM thought. Or, well, he hoped so. Though he wasn’t sure if the session was going to actually get to a dungeon tonight, given that he knew very well that at least one of the players was about as chaotic as his character and would likely manage to throw off the DM’s carefully plotted campaign within two moves. And oh _god_ , he was so absolutely screwed if that happened, because he had pages and pages of the perfect outline for this DnD game, but he sure as hell didn’t have a back-up plan, because of course he didn’t, why would he, when it took him so long to even figure out this not-back-up one? There was no way he could improvise, why did he even suggest doing this, was he an idiot? Like, a super stupid idiot? None of them had even ever played before, they might not even like it, and then they’d feel awkward around him because here he is, so excited about this thing they don’t like doing but they agreed to do it so they keep doing it with him and then eventually their resentment would be too much for them to pretend to like him and he would be alone again and.

Okay, maybe dial it back a bit.

The three players took out their three sheets. The DM gave them a glance, even though he had examined them extensively for the past week. “Anyways, let’s start by introducing your characters?”

If anybody noticed the upward lilt of his voice, they didn’t comment on it.

Player One almost pulled himself to his feet with the force of his raised hand, and given that he had sat with his legs crossed, that would have been an impressive feat. “Me, me! I’m going first!”

Player Two, sitting beside him, leaned away and covered his ear. “We’re not in class, idiot.”

“My character’s like a hero guy, but he does his own thing, so that makes him, uhhhhhh, chaotic good! He’s a bugbear fighter – “

“Monk.”

“ – monk, except he just does the punching stuff, not any of the monk stuff. He likes adventure!” Player One flung his arms out wide at this last, grandiose statement, paused, and then leaned back on his palms, beaming widely. “That’s it.”

“You didn’t tell us his name,” Player Three said from the other end of the table.

“Luffy.”

“That’s _your_ name.”

“Yeah?”

“You’re supposed to make up a name for your character! That’s right, right?” She turned towards the DM, and though she phrased it like a question it really sounded more like a threat.

“Hey, I’m not gonna tell you guys how to create characters. He can name his whatever he wants.”

Player One grinned triumphantly, then toppled over laughing when Player Three stretched her leg over and pushed him to the floor. But she did not voice any other complaints, just sat and muttered, “Who ever heard of a bugbear named _Luffy_ _._ ”

“So mine’s named Zoro – “

“ _That’s your name too.”_

“Maybe it’s not, huh? Maybe I named him after, like, the character Zorro.”

“Which happens to also be your name.”

Player Two scratched at his clipped hair. “Not my fault my parents are freaky Zorro fans.”

“Okay, okay, fine. So what’s _‘Zoro’s’_ deal, then?”

“He’s a human swordsman.”

“Alright, now you’re just being lazy.”

Player Two shrugged. To be honest, it was a surprise that he even came at all, and probably the only reason he was here was because he was dragged along. “Well, what’s your character then?” he scoffed (a little too hotly for someone who didn’t care, perhaps).

If he had been hoping to catch her off-guard, though, he was instead greeted with a very official-sounding ‘ahem.’ And then came approximately five pages of character details, down to named lineage and culture of village of origin.

“We can get into some of that in the game itself,” the DM cut in, right around where Player Three was explaining how her character cleverly outsmarted a band of ruffians out of their treasure. He regretted it even before she shot him an affronted glare, because, shit, was that sexist? Did that look sexist? Telling the only girl in the group to shut up? Maybe he was overstepping as a DM, after all, wasn’t talking a free action? (Though that only really applied in the actual game itself not the pre-game set-up or anything like that, but anyways…)

The DM took a breath. Flipped randomly through the guidebook to have an excuse to hide his face behind it. “Anyways...the three of you are sitting in a tavern...”

* * *

This was probably the worst hangover the DM had ever experienced, and he hadn’t even had a sip of alcohol. Player Two had brought plenty, however, and was drinking straight from the bottle.

“Bull _shit_ his freaky goddamn phantom hands stabbed me! I rolled twenty for perceiving! Twenty’s like, the highest number!”

“You did that on your second perceive roll, which I told you not to do because you can’t just _keep making perceive rolls every time you fail.”_

“Says who?! I should be able to perceive whenever the hell I want!”

“Says game balance, Zoro, _please,_ the fight wasn’t even supposed to be this long.”

“Luffy, it’s your turn,” Player Three called out. Player One, who had gotten up long ago to mess around in the kitchenette, poked his head out around the corner.

“Yeah? What happened?”

“Zoro got stabbed by the clown. You’re still in the cage.”

“He’s a _pirate_ clown,” the DM reminded tetchily.

“I didn’t get stabbed!” Player Two slammed his fist on the table, causing the various dice to hop once and toppling a few make-shift figurines that were meant to represent the characters. Amazingly, the table stayed intact under the muscled assault.

Player One disappeared back into the kitchen. A few minutes ago, a worrying sort of smell started wafting from that direction, but given that the fire alarm hadn’t gone off yet, it was probably fine. Maybe. “Can I eat the cage?”

The DM began to flip through the guidebook as Player Three squinted and said, “There’s no way it has something in there for _eating cages._ ”

Let’s see. Flip to the section about doing damage to inanimate objects...using teeth probably counts as unarmed combat… “Yeah, you can try eating the cage. You’ll have to roll against its AC.”

“Cages have _armor?_ Well,” Player Three suddenly added, “I mean, I guess they’re pretty solid.”

“Sure, Luffy can eat a goddamn cage but my goddamn trained-ass swordsman can’t dodge a stupid clown.”

“Pirate clown,” the DM repeated. “With magic phantom hands.”

“Okay back!” Player One announced even though his pounding steps did all the announcing for him. With a bowl of something that smelled vaguely meaty in his hands, he ran straight towards the table, jumped over and across, landed back-first on the couch, and then rolled back down to the floor. The mysterious meat in the bowl remained unspilled.

Player Two, who had been kicked in the head sometime during that acrobatic feat, recoiled with a hand over his face. Player Three backed away from the table. The DM became a little more concerned about the state of his kitchenette. “What the hell is _that,_ ” Player Three said first before the other two could voice it.

“I’unno, supposed to be a meatloaf, but for some reason the bread thing didn’t work.”

“You mean the dough didn’t rise,” Player Two translated. Then: “Oh my god you tried to literally bake meatloaf.”

“Why am I spending a Friday night doing _this,_ ” Player Three muttered, though there was a hint of a smile in her cheeks.

“Okay so I’m rolling the twenty, right?” Player One said, already shaking the twenty-sided die and aiming for the table. Due to previous experience, everybody else ducked for cover as Player One added another ugly dent to the surface of everything the die happened to hit.

Still, even with the imminent threat of death by die, this was…

...Alright.

* * *

There was no time to do anything other than schoolwork, and yet school required so much money. Getting a lot of money meant having a really good job, but getting a good job was only possible by going to school. Such was the bullshit of the world, honestly.

This was the sort of philosophy that ran through his head during part-time shifts at one of the campus’ marts. (Grocers? Convenience stores? Whatever they’re called.) Maybe during the dead hours he could study the pricey engineering textbook that his professor had written. But somehow he’d rather stand and think about more of the world’s bullshit.

Someone pushed the door open, briefly mixing together brisk autumn with air-conditioner. “Welcome!” went his chirpy, automaton retail voice, but he ended up dropping the trademarked Retail Smile when he saw it was Zoro.

The two of them stared for maybe a second longer than was natural, and then Zoro waved. “Hey,” he supplemented, and then walked down to an aisle to examine the wares in great detail.

Were there protocols on how to make small talk with an acquaintance when one happened to be a cashier at the moment? He’d really like a manual right about now. “Do you need help finding anything?” was what he ended up saying when he opened his mouth. God, just kill him now.

“I’m fine, thanks,” came the typical reply. A lot more awkward than he’d expect from Ripped McMuscle Abs. A few seconds later, he was back with a giant bag of chips.

The total came out to be $3.12. Zoro had exact change.

“So how d’you know Luffy?” Zoro asked, sliding pennies across the counter.

“Uh, well. Y’know. I’m an Art-Engineering double major, so…”

Zoro nodded with a comfortably serious look on his face. “Art class?”

“Actually, engineering.” He laughed at Zoro’s expression. “He’s good at memorizing formulas. Kinda shit at everything else, but he’s still passing. You should see him calculate trajectories.”

“I’ve seen him try darts,” Zoro replied skeptically.

“Nah, that’s hard. 3-D space. Watch him play pool.”

“I’m afraid I’ll be brained by the eight ball.”

“Oh c’mon, he’s not _throwing_ it! Trust me, it’s safe.”

Zoro just hummed, chips tucked under his arm.

“What about you? How you know Luffy, I mean,” he added.

Zoro’s face went dreadfully blank and he stared at some distant horror ahead. “Roommate.”

He patted him compassionately on his well-toned arm, taking care not to linger so it wouldn’t turn weird or anything.

“So...the game thing. We’re doing it again next Friday?”

“What? Oh! Uh, yeah. Same time.”

Zoro nodded vaguely, like he was actually interested, and waved again. “See ya there, then.”

It sounded genuine. His heart filled to near bursting capacity.

* * *

“So this is Sanji. Sanji, meet Usopp. I’d tell you to be cool, but we all know you aren’t.”

The DM stood at the entrance to his apartment complex, blocking the door even as he held it open to let his guests in. He wasn’t sure who Player Three’s last statement was directed to exactly. Probably to him.

Player number Four was so much like the typical cool dude, he could probably be sued by every 90’s sitcom ever for copyright infringement. The halo of smoke coming from his cigarette, the black leather jacket, the scraggle of hair on his chin; the only outlier was that weird eyebrow, though, actually, maybe that had its charm too. He looked as in place in a DnD game as all of the other players, that is, not at all. But at least he was someone the DM didn’t even know, and thus there was no pressure to make the game his Best Experience Ever. Or, well, maybe _because_ he was an absolute stranger, there was all the more pressure to make the game his Best Experience Ever, just to make a good first impression.

“Smoking’s bad,” the DM babbled and then cringed because that was absolutely the one thing you never say to a smoker, really, what was he thinking, literally he could have said that the complex didn’t allow smoking indoors, there was a sign right there, now he just sounded like the squarest of squares (which he already was but shhhh).

Soon-to-be Player Four maintained unblinking eye contact, took his cigarette, and snuffed it out on his own tongue without flinching. “Sorry,” he said, tucking the unfinished cig into his pocket.

Player Three shoved him with her shoulder and he broke into a cackle. “You’re disgusting.” She strolled in once the DM got the ability to shuffle slightly to the side of the door and Player Four followed after, nodding at him in deferential acknowledgment of the courteous action of holding the door open. The DM felt him brush by, either the whisper of fabric against skin or just the air between them circulating, and he shivered.

The other players greeted Player Four with enviable casualness and exchanged names. Player Four raised an eyebrow at Player Two. “Seriously? Y’mean the,” and then he sliced an imaginary Z in the air.

Player Two stared blankly, allowing the quip to sink down to the carpet into an early grave, and then turned to the DM. “So what, his character’s gonna just show up?”

“Nah. Uh, sorry Sanji, this is like, session five and we’re kinda in the middle of a storyline, so...”

Player Four shrugged with an easy roll of his shoulders and the image felt incomplete without his cigarette. “Nah, I don’t have anything ready. I figure I’d just see what’s what and then hash out something that’ll be good for the team.”

“Oh, hey! You can be the healer!” Player One piped up, picking bits of fluff off of the couch.

“ _Please_ be our healer,” Player Three added.

In the middle of flopping onto the forbidden couch, Player Four glanced up sharply and said, “Why the fuck do you not have a fucking _healer?_ ”

And at that point, the DM could swear he fell in love.

* * *

In exactly seven minutes and thirty-six seconds, this guy proved himself to be the most horrible piece of garbage trash that had ever been in the company of the DM and fuck him and his backseat playing.

“Wait,” said Unlikely-To-Be Player Four, seeing the DM’s faint expression of horror, and he grinned, that asshole. “The butler really _did_ do it?”

“He didn’t even do anything yet!” the DM snapped.

“I punch the butler,” Player One said.

“But your character doesn’t even have a reason – “

“I rolled a 14 for punching.” The DM threw his pages of notes dramatically behind him and slammed his face onto the table.

“Can I also roll to stab him?” asked Player Two. “Or do we have to do initiative now?”

“No, wait, we need to see if Luffy beat butler guy’s AC.”

“You know what, yes. Yes he does. Roll for damage.”

Player One chucked the dice at the table and only Player Four flinched at the rebound. “Christ, he said roll, not _embed.”_

“Woohoo! A six!” Player One cheered once he found one of the dice.

“Three,” Player Two called from his corner of the room.

“So that’s uh…”

“First attack is six, plus your modifier, which makes eight. Second attack is five. That’s thirteen,” Player Three rattled off with the weary experience befitting of a ragged wanderer.

“You punch Klahadore straight in the face and knock him over, breaking his glasses. Kaya screams from her window at the sight of her butler being attacked, and her various hired help swarm around Klahadore, blocking you from attacking him again. Because all of you are strangers, they point their ire at your new village friend that led you here to begin with to literally ask his rich friend for a goddamn ship, you _assholes._

“’We know you hate him, but you didn’t have to hire a bunch of thugs to beat him up!’ That’s from a guy that looks like a gardener.”

“But he’s a bad guy!”

“’Yeah? Whadd’he do?!’”

“Uh.” Player One turned towards the couch. “What did he do?”

“Iunno. I was just joking.” Player Four turned his head away from Player One’s betrayed look. “C’mon, I didn’t tell you to fucking deck the dude.”

“Zoro? Nami? Anything you guys are doing?”

“I say I got nothing to do with any of you idiots.”

“Hey, what?!”

“You’re the one that started the fight, not me. I’m fine out here.”

“Roll deception.”

“Nat twenty.”

“They completely believe you.”

“ _Nami,_ c’mon!”

“I draw my swords.”

“Jesus christ Zoro, they’re _innocent people.”_

“Maybe they’re in on it.”

The three players turned to the couch. Player Four scratched his cheek. “Well…they probably aren’t?”

“Hey, I’ve got an idea. How about we actually play the actual game instead of playing ‘Let’s Try and Guess The Meta of This Campaign So We Can Ruin the DM’s Plans and Also His Life?’”

In our defense, that other game sounds fun.” Player Two’s smile dropped when the DM glared, which was an amazing feat on its own considering their sheer difference in weight class. “Sorry.”

The DM sent one last dirty look to each and every Player before saying, “What. Do you do.”

* * *

“Sorry for all the fuckery. I really was just making a joke.”

“It’s fine,” he said with a dismissive wave. Sure the entire dramatic progression got thrown off, the encounters were all out of order now, he had to adjust the miniboss’s stats on the fly, and all the while make up an entire alternate story whole cloth in real time, but it was fine. They finished the boss fight. Now he just had to do it again next week.

Sanji clapped him on the shoulder as he passed by out the door, once, twice, the second one lasting longer than the first. “Nah, really. Sorry. Though it was real cool, the way you pulled through. Not everybody can improvise like that, y’know?”

He could not improvise a coherent response to that and by the time he thought of something, Sanji was tromping through the snow off to wherever his place was, leaving nothing but a casual wave backwards, and in the end it was probably a good thing that he didn’t get to say what he thought of because it was really stupid and dumb and god, why are pick-up lines so embarrassing?

He walked back inside, floated his way up the steps, opened up his textbook, and started to imagine the next story for the players to go through.

* * *

“Ughhhhh midterms,” he moaned. Sanji shushed him with a look that clearly stated, ‘We’re in a fucking library, dumbass.’ He shushed back, managing to inject a mocking tone into it. Sanji looked appalled, hand to his chest like he had been shot, and then shushed again with venom.

Nami very silently collapsed on her open laptop. “You’re both awful. I hate you. Why did I think you two would help study.”

“Because we’re both _very_ handsome,” Sanji said, leaning coyly on his hand, his voice going deep.

“Because we actually study,” he answered, though his mind stuck on how Sanji had said the word ‘we.’ “Luffy would just goof off.”

“Zoro’s an idiot,” Sanji added.

“Zoro prefers his own answers,” he offered diplomatically.

“Zoro’s more of a work-out buddy. Test me.” Nami thrust her notebook across the table. Sanji was the one who picked it up, but instead of looking at the page he glanced sharply up.

“I didn’t know you worked out.”

“What, you don’t?”

Sanji patted his chest. “Lungs.”

“Exercise is gross,” was his own contribution.

Nami grimaced. “You guys probably should think about it. I mean, it’s included in the tuition! Not using the gym is like wasting money!”

“Maybe for us, but you’re here on scholarship,” Sanji pointed out.

“Not if I don’t keep up my GPA. Test me already.”

* * *

“Hey guys! This’s Vivi! She’s from Egypt and she’s here ‘cause we traded some other guy for her, but she’s cool so that’s okay.”

“...You’re talking about a student exchange program, right? You’re not just casually talking about human trafficking or something, this is just your way of describing a goddamn fucking normal student exchange program, right? Please?”

“Yes, I’m sorry, I am from the student exchange program,” Player Five said, bobbing her head with a bit of fluster.

“Don’t apologize for him. Christ. I fucking swear you do that on purpose...” In response, Player One only laughed. Player Four flipped him off.

“Hey.” Player Two nudged Player Three, who startled and glanced around for a second. “Nami. You haven’t even said hi yet. C’mon.”

“Oh? O-oh! Haha, sorry! Welcome! Uh, so like...DnD…you have that in Egypt…?”

Her expression of dawning embarrassment, horror, anger, and resignation was all too familiar to the DM, and he wondered if maybe he could take her aside and talk, maybe have a confidant, a partner in pine(ing). But then again, how would he even start the conversation? ‘Hi, I noticed that maybe you’re in lesbians with the new girl, well, I happen to be gay for the new guy, wanna hang out and just bash our heads against the endless bullshit of feelings forever?’

It was in this particular misery, thought the DM, that he wouldn’t prefer company.

* * *

“Oh, sorry, I can’t, already promised to help Vivi look over her essay before the deadline tonight.”

“So Egypt has procrastination too…”

He shoved Sanji with his shoulder, who shoved back immediately. “I mean, we could still study together while you did that, though. No reason to cancel.”

Sanji and Nami both gave him a look that was usually reserved for the obtuse, and he instinctively looked around for Luffy and Zoro. “...What? I didn’t say anything weird…”

“They’re dating, shithead,” said Sanji, while Nami reflexively beamed beside him.

“...We just met her like, two days ago.”

“Yeah, it took a little while for us to break each others’ barriers…”

“You met her two days ago.”

“Anyways,” Nami shoved her shoulder into Sanji, who, stickman that he was, slammed into his hapless neighbor, forcing the both to stumble. “You guys could take advantage of this alone time too.”

“Uh,” he said, but it was lost in the middle of Sanji’s, “Wh-Wha—talking, you, that’s not, ahahaha! Okay, good funny! – Joke, I said joke!” The two watched as Sanji somehow performed a visual representation of a spittake using only his arms before, as if someone had wound him up like a toy car, very suddenly zoomed ahead.

Nami gave him another look, this one a bit pitying. Though mostly, it was just exasperated.

* * *

They all became aware of the discomfort at various points, but it was Player Two who said, a few sessions later, “It’s getting a bit crowded here.”

Five players wasn’t necessarily too much for a tabletop campaign, but it certainly was too much for this particular tabletop. They leaked around the sides, almost encroaching on the designated DM-only space.

“We’re gonna need a bigger table,” said Player Four with a completely straight face, and then looked disappointed when not even Player One deigned to supply a laugh.

“Well...yeah, I mean, I guess...but I don’t think coffee tables get much bigger than this.”

“We need an actual table, doofus,” Player Three said, bopping him lightly on the head. “With chairs.”

The DM hissed inward. “I’m an engineering and art double major, you think I have that sort of cash?”

“I’m still surprised that you even have the fucking _time_ for this.”

“The family who is housing me has a table with chairs,” Player Five offered.

The other people sitting around the table hummed hesitantly. “Are they really gonna be okay with five random students coming in and playing a weird game where we pretend we’re fighting dragons in dungeons?” the DM asked with a faint, nervous chuckle.

* * *

“Thank you for being such good friends with Vivi,” said the woman who was apparently very okay with five random students coming in and playing a weird game where they pretended to fight dragons in dungeons. Her abode had more than three rooms. He had almost forgotten that that was possible.

Vivi stood beside her replacement mom (who was, in turn, standing in front of presumably her son – the kid hid his face the entire time and didn’t speak), hands clasped in front, smiling like she really really hoped that Robin (the woman insisted on them calling her by her first name, and even being a legal adult didn’t make that feel not weird) wouldn’t embarrass her. But Robin had prepared cookies and drinks and a much larger table, and that was enough to win a student’s respect.

Nami flopped into an actual for real chair and leaned back, stretching exaggeratedly. “Ahh! Much better!”

And objectively, yeah, it was. Of course it was. There was no contest because the contest wouldn’t have pitted the two spaces together in the first place, because that would have been ridiculous. Like pitting a sumo wrestler against a fencer. So he shouldn’t feel hurt or anything.

That would just be silly.

* * *

“I can’t help it, these chairs just feel weird.” The DM shifted again in his chair, this time curling one leg under him and letting the other dangle on the side. 

“Well,” Player Two responded, juggling three dice with one hand, “Maybe it wouldn’t feel weird if you sat in the damn chair like a normal-ass person.”

“Says the idiot sitting cross-legged.”

“I _don’t_ want to hear that from _you of all people!_ ”

Player Five’s expression turned towards revelation. “Oh, this sitting pattern is unusual? I assumed that you Americans...erm…” She ducked her head, as if already apologizing for beginning such a brazen statement. “That is to say...”

Player Three nudged her, or rather, leaned into her more, as they were already practically sitting in the same chair. “I mean, with the examples you have…” The two of them glanced around together, which prompted the rest of the table to follow along. A quick survey of chair-seating styles revealed: three absolutely normal ones (Player One counted only because he kept standing up and walking around anyways and thus did not sit long enough to even get into an odd position); one halfsies; one cross-legged; and then Player Four.

Player Four, for some reason, had seemingly taken it upon himself to out-shock the others every session with whatever messed up position he had cooked up over the week. Today, it involved setting the chair upside-down, hooking the back chair legs with his own legs while facing away from the table, and leaning his head back so he was seeing everybody the wrong way up. (Last session, the position he chose involved holding his unlit (Robin insisted) cigarette with his toes and pretend-smoking it every few minutes.)

Survey completed, Three turned back to Five. “...I wouldn’t blame you for thinking it.”

“Hey, so anyways, weren’t we about to get shot or something?” Player Four drawled, rolling his dice from hand to hand above his face.

“Ah, right, yes, anyways, there are villagers with guns, and they are pointing them at you and telling you to turn around and leave. What do you do?

“I’m gonna punch ‘em!”

“Ah, wait,” Player Five reached out and managed to catch Player One’s arm before he let loose his dice. “I do not think that would be a good idea, are we not here to ask them for help?”

Player One scrunched his face. “But we haven’t had a fight in like, foreeeevverrr…”

“Yes, but consider – “

“One of the villagers gets spooked and shoots at you, Luffy. And Vivi, I assume you’re next to him? Both of you roll.”

Above the shouts and complaints of ‘not allowed,’ and ‘they were talking’ and ‘free actions!’, Player Five put on a grim face, and quietly rolled. It was only when the sound of the die stopped that everybody went silent and leaned in. And, after registering the number, leaned back in their chairs and sighed.

“...Nine…?” Player Five looked up at him, still holding onto hope. And the DM, separated from the rest of them by a flimsy, thin, cardboard screen, just looked down.

“...The ring of gunfire continues to echo on the walls of this rugged channel far longer than the time it takes for the bullet to soar, unerringly, to its target. But Vivi, holding Luffy back, you’re in the way of the shot, and you get hit for...seven damage. Up top, one of the villagers shouts at the one who made the shot – ‘I told you not to fire unless I signal for it!’ The other villager: ‘B-but he…’

“Anyways, roll for initia – “

Player Five throws out an arm across the table. The sudden movement from her and the interruption surprised everyone else, and they froze. “Wait,” she said, needlessly.

A pause.

“...I stand up.”

(“Wait, was she prone before?”

“I dunno, maybe the mook’s gun has some sorta status-inflicting thing – “

“Shh!”)

Her look is intense as she continues: “...I walk forward, in front of everybody else. And I kneel on the deck and bow my head to them.”

(“Uh, what.”

“Wait, are we not fighting?”)

“And then, I say...ah...something like…’Please, someone on board our ship is deathly ill! All we want is a doctor to treat her. I beg you!’”

Player One stared at Five for a moment, then suddenly turned his head towards one of the doors. When the DM followed his gaze, he saw a small someone who squeaked in surprise upon being seen, and immediately hid...his face. Behind the door frame. Leaving the rest of his body out in plain sight.

“...I’m doing the same,” Player One said, much to everybody’s immense shock, though Player Five shot an appreciative smile towards him, even when he literally enacted what his character was doing by slamming his forehead against the table with such force that dice scattered everywhere and Player Four’s chair skidded backwards, causing him to hit his head on the table’s edge on his way down.

* * *

It was a gentle tug on his shirt that roused him and he immediately roused his head, a d20 peeling off his cheek. “Snanjee…?” he said, although he already knew that it couldn’t have been Sanji, due to him not being on the floor courtesy of a foot in his ass. By the sounds of it, Sanji was still living it up in the kitchen, washing all the dishes, wiping them down, chatting up the twenty-eight year old woman, the works (and, like, this is entirely backwards isn’t it? Shouldn’t the passenger be waiting on the ride, not the other way around?), and in the meantime, everybody else had long gone, including Vivi, who was being smuggled into Nami’s dorm for the night. Which just left…

Despite his eyes feeling like a constant yawn, he reflexively smiled down at the kid, who had backed away once he sat up, tugging the brim of his hat so far down that it was doubtful he could actually see past it. And despite his throat feeling like ragged curtains, he said, “Hey there. My name’s Usopp.  How’s it going? ”

“ ,” said the kid.

“Er. Sorry, what was that?”

“...friends with Vivi…?” 

“Me? Uh. Yeah, yeah I am.”

The kid took in this information seemed to calculate some sort of logical trajectory towards a pre-chosen conclusion, and finally looked up, showing his entire face. “...’m Tony...are you...umm…” The kid scrunched up his face, the blue band-aid on his nose flaking at the edges. He smoothed it down and sniffed. “...a, teacher…?”

Oof. Right in the gut. Forgetting himself for a moment, he recoiled and spluttered at Tony. “T-teacher? Wh, what makes you think that, I would be,” someone who could be looked to for information, for advice, someone who demanded respect, someone who knew his shit, has his shit, had locked his shit down and thrown away the key?

“Um...you were...uh, reading. To everybody else. Umm, my old teachers, did that.”

Oh. Well. A paper-ish object that could unfold, held in front of the face of one person, everybody else, arranged in a semi-circle-esque arrangement in front, sitting, the, well...yeah, it is what it is, storytelling...and what other figure could a kid ever liken that to…?

“...Not quite, no. I’m,” did he really want to explain the entire concept of tabletop role playing to someone’s, uh...five-year-old? “...a storyteller. I’m just telling stories.”

Big round eyes stared up at him, reminding him of his own stare from the faint reflection in the window, years and years ago, back when he still bothered to wait and watch for his dad.

Inwardly, he sighed and prayed for the survival of his voice. “Here – c’mon, take a seat. This is a long one, alright? This is a tale of adventure, heroism, piracy, and freedom!” (Pause to check his attention, yup, eyes on him.) “So it all begins with three people sitting in a tavern…”

(From then on, he noted with a bit of vindictive smugness, the rider-passenger relationship oddity was righted and Sanji had to wait on him, without cigarettes, for as long as it took for him to reach a stopping point. His victory was dampened slightly by Sanji not even having the courtesy to look irate, but oh well. He was too busy improvising new material on the fly, as telling a campaign straight was far faster than playing through it.

“Hm. I guess we should expect going to the sky in the near future.”

“No, shut up, or I’m making you walk.”)

* * *

Not everybody could stick around the area after the semester was over, but everybody was there to see Vivi off for her flight back home. The night before, they had given her character a send-off as well and she had surprised everybody by giving a heartfelt speech, and he had cried so much that he was sure he wouldn’t have tears left over for the real deal but no, all she had to do was wave goodbye and here he goes again.

“Don’t be a fucking doofus,” said Sanji, throat strained. “We’ve got video chat. It’s not like we’re not seeing her again.”

“Wanna tell that to Nami?” he muttered back, rubbing at his eyes. Sanji glanced towards where Nami had suddenly thrown herself onto Vivi in a tight hug right before the line through airport security, then nudged him roughly with his shoulder. He nudged back.

They all stayed standing outside the entrance to security, waving even though she had disappeared behind a wall. Zoro dropped his arm. “Still say we shoulda kidnapped her,” he said, and Tony turned slightly teary eyes towards him.

“Sh-she could’ve stayed?” And, his wide eyes continued, why didn’t you do it when you had the chance?! Zoro fumbled with his words for a second and then winced when he received a thwap on his back.

“Shut up about that already!” Nami hissed. “We’re literally right in front of security!” Which wasn’t a hard ‘no,’ and that was somewhat worrying, but Vivi left, un-kidnapped.

This would probably mean the end of the Playing at an Actual House era, or normally it would, probably, but Robin said, before they went separately to their own modes of transportation, “You are all still welcome to my home, by the way. I do enjoy your company, and I believe Tony does too.”

“I, I mean, we wouldn’t want to impose – “

“Yeah, sure!” Luffy replied, beaming. And that was that.

* * *

“Are you alright?” Robin asked the DM after one of his jaw-dropping yawns. They were getting more frequent as of late, given that, also as of late, he’s been going to sleep around two in the morning and had to wake up around seven.

Still, he said, “Nah, I’m okay,” and turned back to the group. Who were also staring at him.

“It’s just about midterms week,” Player Three said, tapping her nails on the table. “What do art classes do for that? And aren’t you taking a bunch of engineering classes too?”

“Look, if you got some other shit to do, then we can skip a few weeks, man. Like, you’ll probably fucking die of overwork if you keep up like this.”

“I’ve handled it before,” the DM shot back, standing his guidebook up in front of him to bury his face in it. Conversation over. But it didn’t really seem like anybody else got the memo.

“Yeah. But the workloads change. Just because you handled it before doesn’t mean you’ll be safe the second time.”

Player Four whistled low and long. “Damn, that was some actual good advice, considering where it came from.” He raised an arm just in time to catch Player Two’s foot trying to push him out of his chair. “But yeah, seriously, a game’s fun and all but it’s not worth it to ruin your health or anything.”

“As if art majors are ever healthy.”

“Ha. But seriously, get some sleep.”

“We’re in the middle of some really heavy, plot-important stuff though!”

Player One jumped up before anybody could say anything else and shouted, “Robin! Hey Robin! C’mere a sec!”

Robin walked three steps closer to Player One.

“There you are!”

“There I am,” Robin replied with a faint smile.

“Hey, can you DM?”

The look on Robin’s face was almost odd to see, being something other than placid politeness and even-tempered compassion. “Me? Ah, well...I could attempt it, if nobody minds.”

“Great! Then let’s do that, and you can just be a player like the rest of us, I mean you got a buncha DMPCs anyways. How’s that sound?”

“Good advice from Zoro _and_ a good plan from Luffy?”

“Guess the apocalypse is happening.”

“So? Whaddya think?”

He thought that he really was fine, everybody was making a big deal out of nothing. He thought that it was a big mistake to just ask someone inexperienced with DnD or even just general tabletop roleplaying to suddenly jump in as DM in the middle of an arc. He thought, what, now _I’m_ not good enough either?

“Yeah. Okay.”

* * *

It turned out that Robin was really fucking good at being a DM.

Not that she was making everything up out of whole cloth. There were clearly parts of the twists and turns that were based on his decisions and he could see his original inkling of ideas through all the embellishments that the New DM gave them. She was quick on her toes too, barely a pause between action and reaction, even for the reactions that were improvised on the spot when things went off the rails.

Did things actually go off the rails?

It must have gone off the rails at some point, but all Player Six could feel about the session just now was how in control the New DM was. And how much fun everybody was having. (More fun than they were having with him?)

It was too unfair. She was too well composed. She had an age advantage. She was naturally fearless. (Which made even less sense why she would agree to even play DnD.) When the next session date rolled around, Player Six felt like he’d like nothing more than to just stay in bed.

* * *

WERE R U??????

yea sorry

not feelin up to it

SICK????

SHOULDER WE CANCEL?????

SHULD

guess so

SHOULD

OK!!!

* * *

Except no, that wouldn’t be fair at all.

* * *

actally just go ahead an start without me mk

no worries

U SHORE????

yea just treat my chara like an npc

that’s what he was initially lmao

U OK?

no big deal it’s fine

HNG ON WAIT A SEC

* * *

OKAY! I THINK I DID IT RIGHT!!

what

Oh my fucking god Luffy we’re literally in the same room

And you made a group chat

how did u even get my #

Hello there, we heard from Luffy that you are not feeling well?

Forget namis number how the fuck did you get ROBINS number

guys

ZORO’S PHONE IS OLD AND DUMB

SO I’M GONNA TALK FOR HIM

y r u shouting

HE SAYS

you can really start without me

TI WON T BE TEH SAME WITOUT HIM HERE

NOW HE’S SAYING THATS NOT HAWHT HE SAID

NOW HE’S IELDKGNBHG

It’s true. I am seeing and hearing this first-hand.

Zoro is truly ieldkgnbhg.

lmao

so whats going on :0

Luffy is busy ill take over

its nothin really

Zoros wrestling and holy fuck i think he just broke luffyss phone

Not much to break actually

Luffyss phone already cracked to hell

told Luffy already yall can start w/o me

:/ but its not dnd wo u

we can w8

but i dont wanna like

Theyre still at it

make you guys just not have fun

wat u mean

Okay zoro said sorry so i guess thats done

Hey yo whatre you talking about with that shit

like just cause i don feel like playin

doesnt mean yall cant play

Yeah well just cause we all wanna play

Doesnt mean we cant wait for you jackass

^ wat Sanji sed

neway is it just u dont feel like leeving bed

guys seriously tho

Im all serious here

i mean i guess

if thats it

cant we just do

Would you feel up to playing remotely? Through a video call?

a face

wat robin sed lmao

i dunno

HI BACK

Look would you rather fucking play

Or not

i guess

I JSTU READ EVERYTHING!

I THINK VIDEO WORLD BE COOL!!!

WOULD

u dont gotta correct we no wat u mean

JUST

yeah

Alright then were video calling

HURRAY!!!

And we can FINALLY stop fucking

Texting each other in the SAME FUCKING ROOM

lmao

:)

***

“Hey, let me help you with the dishes,” he said, before Sanji could even scoot out of his chair. He could feel the putrid glare trying to rot his back away, but continued on unabated. Robin smiled at him the smile usually reserved for Sanji’s routine courtesy gesture, inviting him into the kitchen, and the two of them stood side by side, Robin quietly taking the heavy skillets that his own (totally buff and extremely ripped) arms struggled to hold under the faucet, him thoroughly wiping down the utensils, neither of them even bringing up the dishwasher in the room as was customary in his mom’s (and apparently Robin’s) house.

He gave himself five forks to work up the nerve and said, “I’m sorry. For being, uh, a brat. About the…game...and all…” Pause. “Uh, wait, I guess I should, explain, what I’m apologizing for, uh, shit – I mean, shoot, agh, crap, uh.”

“It’s alright,” Robin said, wiping down a skillet. “Emotions happen. This, ah, campaign was yours for so long, and all of a sudden…”

“Well, yeah, but I still probably shouldn’t have…”

“Gotten upset that something that was near and dear to you was suddenly wrenched out of your own power with barely a consideration or even conversation?” Robin pushed the faucet to his side of the sink while shaking off a bit of drops from a pot. “Maybe it would have felt better not to. But it doesn’t mean you should or shouldn’t have done this or that. Frankly, I feel that I must owe you an apology myself. I admit, I...am not quite sure why, but I had assumed that, well, Luffy was...how to say...the leader…?” She shrugged. I can’t say why I thought, in a game where one person plays a role called ‘Dungeon Master,’ that one of the players was the, ah, owner of the game.”

“No, no. I can totally understand, It’s Luffy. I don’t even think I would have ever met any of these other people if it weren’t for him.” Definitely wouldn’t have met Robin at all, in any case, and, actually, now that he thought some more, he had been joking but...wasn’t the common point to everybody just, literally, Luffy?

“There is something else I neglected to do.”

“Hm?” He shook his head and tried to play off the fact that he had just let water run over a spoon for half a minute by pretending he hadn’t at all.

“Thank you. For talking to Tony.”

He blinked. “That’s all? Uh – wait, no, I don’t mean that in like, a, like, thank you – no, you’re welcome? Fu – frick, agh, why,”

Robin laughed. “Don’t underestimate the pulling power of your storytelling. Perhaps Luffy has brought people together, but Usopp, why do you think they keep coming back…?”

He froze for an eternity, contained in a second. Processed it. Held it close to his chest, and tried to take it in. It leaked out of his eyes, dripping down past his reflexive smile. He tried to express everything he felt, the gratitude surprise realization elation...and replied,

“Ah.”

**Author's Note:**

> Franky is Luffy and Usopp's engineering professor, and he ends up giving luffy a ride to robin's place at one point because luffy somehow broke his bike and that's all he has for transportation and he was mentioning going to use public transportation and Franky decided, no, not that. Anyways giving luffy a ride turned into going inside robin's house turned into babysitting chopper for years and then at one point he's like "y'know robin i really like you a lot, i've grown to care for you and -- "
> 
> robin: yes i know, that's why we're dating  
> franky, who is doing this while the two of them are in a cafe together, just two of them, which they have been doing fairly regularly for the better part of two years: oh what
> 
> brook is a member of a band, the band's gimmick is the members paint themselves like skeletons or something. luffy was at his show at one point, existed near brook's car, and then it broke down. luffy mentions knowing a guy (franky) and leads brook straight to robin's house whereupon sanji and nami both arel like "HUMMING BROOK?!?!??!"
> 
> that's my idea currently anyways. might be different later who know


End file.
